Bin Laden's legacy

Terrorists hurt America most by making it close its borders

HAVING removed his shoes, coat, gloves, hat, jacket, wallet and keys, Lexington walked through the metal detector. It beeped. Your columnist had forgotten to remove his belt. The two security guards in attendance began to shout and make disparaging remarks about his ability to perform simple tasks. This scene occurred outside the American embassy in London last month, when Lexington was renewing his visa. The rest of the process passed smoothly, but those boorish security guards were a poor advertisement for the greatest country on earth.

Americans are, by and large, a courteous bunch. Interactions with strangers are typically sweetened with a generous frosting of “Sir”, “Ma'am” and “Excuse me”. Yet in a survey commissioned by the travel industry, more than half of visitors found American border officials rude and unpleasant. By a two-to-one margin, the country's entry process was rated the world's worst. This is not a problem only for whingeing journalists and other foreign riff-raff. It is also a problem for America.

The system is geared towards keeping out a tiny number of terrorists. Fair enough—such people should indeed be kept out. But there should be a trade-off. An immigration official lives in fear of admitting the next Mohammed Atta, but there is no penalty for excluding the next Einstein, or for humiliating tourists who subsequently summer in France. Osama bin Laden has arguably inflicted more harm on America indirectly than directly. To stop his acolytes from striking again, the government has made entering America far more difficult and degrading than it need be.

This has slowed the influx of foreign brains. In 2001, 28% of students who studied abroad did so at American universities. By 2008 that figure had shrunk to 21%, though since the absolute number of globally mobile students grew by 50% over that period, the absolute number in America has flattened, not fallen. Does this matter? Well, foreigners and immigrants make up more than half of the scientific researchers in the United States, notes Edward Alden, the author of a fine book called “The Closing of the American Border”. Among postdoctoral students doing top-level research, 60% are foreign-born. Boffins flock to America because its universities are the best, but the ordeal of getting a visa prompts many to take their ideas elsewhere.

A similar problem afflicts even short-term visitors. Organisers of international scientific conferences are increasingly reluctant to hold them in America because not everyone they invite will be able to attend. Last year, for example, Alik Ismail-Zadeh, a prominent Russian geophysicist, applied for a visa to attend a meeting of the American Geophysical Union. He allowed three months, but did not get his passport back until after his plane had departed. Kathie Bailey-Mathae of the National Academy of Sciences says that the hassles have eased in the past year, but only somewhat. When foreign scientists run into problems repeatedly, they become loth to collaborate with their American peers, she says.

Barack Obama came to office promising to reform the immigration system. So far, he has made only small changes, such as ending commando-style raids on factories suspected of hiring illegal workers; other matters have demanded his attention. But behind the scenes there are rumblings about immigration. Chuck Schumer, a Democratic senator from New York, and Lindsey Graham, a Republican from South Carolina, are working on a comprehensive reform bill, which they may unveil soon. Angela Kelley of the Centre for American Progress (CAP), a think-tank closely aligned with the Obama administration, says she is optimistic that something will happen this year.

Last week her think-tank published a study touting the benefits of reform. Its author, Raúl Hinojosa-Ojeda of the University of California, Los Angeles, models what might happen if immigration laws are made more welcoming. First, he assumes that Congress creates a pathway for the estimated 12m illegal immigrants already in the country to earn legal status and eventually citizenship—by paying taxes, staying out of trouble, and so on. Second, he assumes that the current rigid cap on the number of visas issued to economic migrants is replaced with one that takes into account what the American labour market needs. These two changes would raise America's GDP by $1.5 trillion over ten years, calculates Mr Hinojosa-Ojeda. A less generous programme (allowing only temporary work visas) would swell the economy by only half as much, he reckons. Mass deportation would cost more than the Iraqi and Afghan wars combined.

Fear not, said he

American blue-collar workers fear that Mexican immigrants will undercut their wages. Mr Hinojosa-Ojeda says they won't if they are legal. The fear of deportation makes illegal workers accept worse conditions, he finds. Once legal, they demand higher wages, and no longer drag down those of the native-born. And once immigrants are confident that they can stay, they are more likely to invest in the future, for example by starting a business.

Such arguments may help nudge immigration reform through Congress. But it will be a heck of a fight. (When George Bush tried, nativists in his own party kneecapped him.) With a more Democratic Congress, reform may be easier. But it is unclear whether reformers will try to make the system more talent-friendly. In 2008, more than four times as many people earned green cards (ie, permanent residency) because of family ties to America than because of their skills. While other countries, such as Canada and Australia, seek to attract the best brains from around the world, America's immigration system is a recipe for stagnation. In the long term, it poses a serious threat to America's status as top nation, argues a report from the Council on Foreign Relations, a think-tank. But in the short term, it could be fixed.